


AKA Soulmates

by Cellardoor26



Category: Jessica Jones (TV)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Alternate Universe - Soulmates, Canon-Typical Violence, Drama & Romance, F/M, Some angst, Soulmates, sappy?
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-02-05
Updated: 2018-02-09
Packaged: 2019-03-14 07:22:02
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 2
Words: 8,524
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13585113
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Cellardoor26/pseuds/Cellardoor26
Summary: How do you react when you find out your soulmate is the worst person in the world?Get drunk, deny the inevitable, and try not to make out with them.Jessica x Kilgrave soulmates AU.This one gets dark but is also kind of sappy?





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> I sat down at my computer to write a one off for my AU universe in JJ, but instead I got caught on the idea of a soulmate AU for Kilgrave and Jessica. Was it possible? Could I keep it in tone for this dark universe? Could it still follow the narrative of the show and be everything you want in a soulmate AU?? Here’s the culmination of a tangent I got lost in. 
> 
> Chapter two will be up in a week.

Chapter 1

The day Jessica first saw her soulmate she was wiping down tables at her god awful job at Frank’s Diner. It was 11:30 at night and all Jessie could think about was lying in bed with her feet up and flicking through TV channels faster than her eyes could see what was on the screen. 

Her version of heaven. 

Instead, here she was, cursing the patrons who just left for sticking her with a huge mess and a measly tip. Jessica mentally tallied up whether she could buy a lamp and have heat when she heard an obnoxious group of people outside the window. One person was telling some story in a drunk, boisterous voice, and it seemed like every joke was met with heartfelt laughter. Jessica looked up, wondering what could be so funny when she froze: standing in front of her, with his crowd of adoring fans, was The Purple Man. 

 

In a perfect system, the function of soulmates would be a one-to-one ratio. Two people consumed by the other, passionately in love. In about 87.3 out of 100 cases this was true. However, the remaining 12.7 percent created such complicated situations it was now popular to reject this fundamental notion. 

Jessica had heard of triads, a widowed soulmate finding another, and couples believing they had found their soulmate until one or both found themselves with their “true” other half. A heretical few even believed the concept of soulmates didn’t truly exist. 

As a general rule, these people had never met The Purple Man. 

 

Jessica watched in horrified fascination as the group made its way to the Diner’s front door. Jessica wondered belatedly if she should hide, or if flipping off all the lights would make them think Frank’s was closed. Jessica wasn’t a coward, but only a fool would willfully choose to cross the man’s path. 

 

Many philosophers claimed the worst soulmate circumstance was finding the person who was your soulmate, only it wasn’t reciprocated. Many treatises discussed whether unrequited love could be considered a soulmate bond, and if they did, how it measured up against the theology of a merciful god. 

These philosophers were wrong. 

 

Jessica’s eyes remained fixed on the boisterous group, her eyes jumping from person to person, always returning to Kilgrave without exactly meaning to. Jessica admitted to herself that he was just as handsome as he appeared on television, and there was a sort of innate charisma he broadcast the news stations always discussed but weren’t able to show. She found herself admiring his hair, and only snapped out of it when she noticed someone walk up to the group. 

 

Once a millennia there appeared a person on the scene of history. They were shown as brave, strong, unifying. They would overtake countries, redefine religions, usher in ages of leadership, progress, death, change. Their very names held power: Jesus, Caesar, Stalin. These people were soulmate to many, instead of few. They were harbingers of peace or destruction. 

The Purple Man was in these ranks. 

 

Clearly the man who joined the group knew who The Purple Man was, because he directed his words solely to him. Jessica watched as Kilgrave stared in boredom, then piqued interest, and finally disdain. The Purple Man said one sentence to the interloper, and Jessica shut her eyes even though she knew what will happen next. The reports were all the same: the man, faithfully, would stand in front of traffic. 

Another soulmate had been added to his collection.

 

The philosophers called this the great gift of love: to subvert your will to your beloved. Mutually assured devotion. The theory in the theoretical was romantic: you and your beloved could command each other, and based on your level of connection, the commands could become more encompassing, more binding. 

Romeo and Juliet were the paradigm of this: they both commanded the other to kill themselves. It was done to protect their soulmate bond from their warring families’ machinations to destroy the other family. It was true love. 

Some heretical extremists would argue it was murder, but they were on the losing side. 

 

Jessica closed her eyes on impact, and only opened them when she heard the sound of ambulance and police car sirens. She looked around frantically for The Purple Man, but he and his harem had disappeared. 

 

What makes the difference between these men of greatness and men of ill repute? In this, the philosophers are in consensus: they need a soulmate of their own. 

And in Kilgrave’s thirty-three years of life, not one had been found. 

 

 

It was the day after Jessica first saw her soulmate, and she did not want to get out of bed. 

Technically it was her day off, so she shouldn’t need to. But Tina, the only sane waitress at Frank’s, lit up her phone with increasingly urgent text messages, begging her to take over the day shift. Jessica relented, partly to stop the barrage of messages, but mostly because she was tired of seeing by street lamp in her own place. 

Jessica waited another moment, savoring the feel of warmth under her covers, before she threw them off, cursing at the cold air and hopped to various parts of her apartment to pick up the pieces of her uniform. Through this dance Jessica combed her hair with her fingers and found a Pop Tart still in its wrapper under the couch to eat on her way to work. An alarm from her phone signaled that she would be late, but like most days, Jessica didn’t hurry. One of the few perks to hating your job was not giving a shit about your attitude. 

It was a brutal ten hours later and Jessica left work pissed. Another waitress didn’t show up, and the place was so packed Jessica only got to take one of her breaks. On top of that, Jessica was bundled up to the gills but the wind was so biting it felt like she was wearing nothing at all. The ten minute walk home was unbearable. Halfway through Jessica gave up, and turned onto the alleyway to her favorite (ie closest) bar instead. 

Then the world turned to shit. 

Half a block to central heating and cold drinks Jessica saw a tall, muscular man standing over another. She wondered at first if he was helping his friend up, but when the street light flickered on Jessica saw that the large muscular man was holding an equally large knife. Jessica wondered if she was about to get involved in a gang fight, and cautiously moved forward. With another flick of a street light turning on Jessica saw someone else on the ground, a pool of blood rapidly growing, and stopped thinking altogether. She just ran. 

The man kicked the other in his stomach twice, quickly and with a terrible force behind it, and then grabbed his collar, pulling him up roughly to meet his eyes. He brought the knife close to the other man’s neck, and leaned forward to to whisper something in his ear: time slowed. 

When it sped up again he was on the ground, Jessica on top of him. While the juxtaposition of a tiny girl tackling a giant man wielding a knife looked ironic, the scales should have been disproportionately weighted in Jessica’s favor. 

But the man hit her with so much strength Jessica felt the faint prickling of fear, the worry that maybe she had finally met her match. For the first time in her life, Jessica imbued every punch with her considerable strength. She lost the tactical upper ground to dislodge him of his knife, and the man knocked her off him, straddling her and landing punches left and right. Jessica tried to ignore the considerable pain, waiting until he’d swung too much of his weight into a punch and sent him sprawling. While he was dazed she punched his head, and then grabbed it, slamming it against the ground. 

Immediately Jessica knew she used too much force and the man was dead, but she ignored this, pulling her sore body to the other man. The one lying in an ever expanding pool of blood. 

Her timing carried over from this morning, and when she placed her hand on his chest it didn’t move. 

“There’s still one more.” Jessica remembered, and she turned to look at the man who was alive, feeling a mixture of relief and hope. She moved in closer, wanting to check that he was ok. 

“Hey, are you alright?” She asked, but halfway through the sentence her stomach dropped. Slumped against the wall was The Purple Man, and he was staring at her like she just saved his life. Which, fuck, she totally did. 

“Why did you do that?” He asked her, his breath coming fast and his eyes fastened onto her. He looked so different from the calm confident man from her memories of last night she thought for a moment maybe he wasn’t who she thought he was.

But then he said, “I don’t know you. I didn’t order you to save me.” and Jessica couldn’t delude herself. She found her legs didn’t want to support her weight, and she dropped to the ground, idly pulling her left foot from touching a pool of blood. 

“I thought you were someone else. Someone worthy of being saved.” If anyone had been in earshot they would have gasped at hearing Jessica speak to Kilgrave in such a way. Jessica didn’t even notice. She'd become a killer, for him. She’d just stopped the world from being rid of arguably the most dangerous man on the planet, and she did it of her own volition. Her hands shook, the motion settling into her bones. The urge to laugh grew: how was it her trying to do the right thing led to her biggest fuck up of all time? 

“You’re exceptionally strong. Even stronger than Luke. What’s your name?”Jessica's stomach turned over. Scratch that, now she’d committed the biggest fuck up of all time. She fought the urge to throw up. How had she horded her secret this long and then let it out to the single most dangerous person possible? Jessica cast her eyes about, looking for an exit strategy. Her gaze caught on the dead man in front of her. The one she didn’t kill. 

“Who is, who was the man..” She trailed off, but her eyes were focused and Killgrave saw who she was staring at. 

“Ah Patrick. He’s been my bodyguard since the beginning. The other man, Luke, clearly didn’t understand the meaning of the job description.” Kilgrave’s words were flippant but his tone was subdued. 

“What?” This prompted Jessica to turn and look at him, her first fully formed thought appearing, “They were both your body guards? Was he pretending to be your soulmate?” 

“Not every person in my employ loves me. Money works just as well.” The Purple Man shifted to stand and fell back, his wince showcasing how hard he’d been kicked. “Well, generally speaking.” Jessica found herself wondering if he was alright, and then recoiled at the thought. She struggled to think of the sane thing to do. 

“We need to call the police, tell them what happened.” He stood, shaking his coat out, tucking his collar down, and finally combing his hair back into place with his fingers. Jessica watched his actions with a strange intensity. In thirty seconds Kilgrave had gone from looking like he belonged in the gutters to the cover of a magazine. 

“What we’re going to do is get away, go find a place away from here, and discuss the mystery that is you. And you’ll give me your name.” Jessica looked up. He was towering over her. She stood for something to do, even though her body protested. 

“No.” He took a physical step back, and Jessica’s stomach settled. For the first time that night, she began to feel in control. 

“Do you want to be known as the woman who saved me?” He asked her, and her feeling of control disappeared. 

“Everyone will think… they’ll just think I’m one of your soulmates.” Her stomach flipped at saying this out loud, Jessica ignored it. The Purple Man smiled at her. It was not a kind smile. 

“Exactly. No one will trust you ever again. The details of tonight will be repeated on every news station and gossip website. Everyone will puzzle how a woman who looks to be a hundred and twenty pounds soaking wet was able to kill a man twice her size of considerable strength. All your secrets will come to light. Everyone will wait to see what else you do for me. You’ll lose any semblance of peace and trust. Now, tell me your name.” Jessica's ears were ringing and her head felt light. She knew that he was right, and the thought of everyone knowing who she was and what she could do terrified her, but giving into him felt like giving up. 

At that moment a large group of people come out of the bar. They were talking noisily, with more than a few of them drunk, and calling out a name. Jessica waited to hear the screams and panic that occurred when two dead bodies were spotted by a group of people, but when the air didn’t fill with panicked shrieks Jessica realized it was because this group belonged to The Purple Man. She took a moment to imagine herself stuck with them, standing beside any of them. 

“I’m Jessica Jones,” She said, finally. She watched his posture relax, and his mouth formed her name in replica. “And I’m calling the police.” Jessica pulled out her phone.

She expected him to take her phone out of her hand, to call over someone from his harem and stop her, but The Purple Man only looked at her with a smile. 

It was only when the phone was up to her ear, the three numbers dialed that The Purple Man moved. He stepped closer, until she saw he was only a few inches taller than her. He put a finger to her lips and leaned close enough that she could feel his breath on her ear. His whisper was soft and his tone was sweet, but what he said scared her. 

“Don’t mention me.”

Because god fucking damn it when the police arrived she couldn’t utter his name. 

 

 

One week after Jessica saw her soulmate she was miserable. The past few days had sucked. First there was the initial night, when she was stuck in a police station filling out witness statements and retelling her story so many times she nearly lost count; it was only at 4am they decided not to charge her and let her go home. 

Then she had to call Trish, since it was the weird witching hour when her Subway route wasn’t running, and rendition number forty-nine and fifty commenced; Trish wouldn’t believe it in the first telling. In every rendition Jessica couldn't form his name on her lips, and so she'd had to make up a fleeing victim leaving the scene. Add the sin of lying and perjury to her ever expanding list. 

What then followed was a lot of cold and snowy days, with long shifts at work and little sleep. One night she woke up gasping; in her dream she'd been drowning in the man's blood. The one she killed. The one who haunted her. 

So Jessica turned to her most familiar and comforting vice: hard liquor. Since her favorite bar was now ruined Jessica went to a different place; it was further away and had more of a college scene, which Jessica hated, but was also far more likely to have young dumb men offering up alcohol to any woman who moved. That part Jessica loved. 

She was on shot number four and feeling pretty good. She’d just entered the stage where everything felt a bit removed and fuzzy, but hadn’t yet hit the stage where all her problems felt far away. Jessica spun slightly on her barstool, wondering which man she was going to take home tonight when she felt someone touch her shoulder. “There we go,” she thought. 

“Hey there..” Jessica trailed off when she saw who it was. The Purple Man. “Well don't you turn up like a bad penny.” Kilgrave smiled and leaned against the bar, not taking the empty seat beside her. 

“Fancy seeing you here.” He said pleasantly. She scoffed, and looked around for his harem. She saw a group of people who were dressed to the nines. They look annoyed to be in this place and were shooting confused looks her way. “I must say, I’m surprised to find you here.” 

Jessica turned back around and shrugged, “Doesn’t seem like your place either.” 

“No, I haven’t come for the scenery.” Jessica didn’t like his tone. Or she liked it too much. Either way she decided to be rude. 

“Looking for a place where people aren’t trying to kill you?” 

“Oh, I’m not worried about that when I have my knight in shining armor sitting in front of me.” Jessica stared at him, struck dumb that his legendary temper didn’t ignite. She tried again. 

“Yeah well, you got your one save. Enjoy it.” 

“I intend to. Let me buy you a drink.” Confused by her second strike out, Jessica didn’t refuse him, and Kilgrave told the bartender Jessica’s preference, a double scotch. Jessica wondered what to make of that. 

When the drink was placed in front of her she downed it in one. The Purple Man watched her in amusement. 

“Why are you called that?” Jessica asked, shaking her head at the strength of the drink, Kilgrave hadn't gone cheap. 

“Called what?” he asked, ordering another round for them both. Against her judgement, Jessica found herself liking him, just a little bit. 

“The Purple Man.” Jessica said, pretending to be a news anchor. 

“You don’t know the legend?” He asked her, he leaned in close, “let’s go sit down and I’ll tell you.” Jessica looked down. 

“I am sitting down.” 

“At a proper table.” Jessica looked around. 

“They’re all full.” 

“That doesn’t matter to me.” 

“Well it does to me.” The Purple Man stared at her for a long minute.

“Are you always going to fight me?” He asked. Jessica laughed without meaning to, to hear a phrase everyone close to her had ever said come out of his mouth felt familiar yet jarring. 

“Of course.” She told him, a smile still on her lips. He said nothing for a minute, and then with an audible sigh took the stool beside her. Jessica felt her smile widen, that she had made the man who could cause wars to gave in was a heady feeling. She wondered what else she could make him do. She wondered if she’d be having these thoughts if she were sober. 

Jessica was startled out of her reverie by the thunk of their drinks on the bar in front of them and she took a moment to heartily thank the bartender, who was watching Kilgrave in barely disguised interest. She turned to Kilgrave, and whatever she intended to say died on her lips as she watched Kilgrave take a drink.

It was a habit of Jessica’s to watch people take a shot, it said a lot more about them than they realized. Kilgrave’s motions put her recent drinking partners to shame: he drank in a fluid, commanding motion, it didn’t offer pretense or bolster. Here was a man who knew how to take a drink. 

Jessica’s face flared up and she quickly looked away. “The story?” Jessica prompted him, downing her drink in an attempt for something to do. 

“Ah yes.” Kilgrave waved away the bartender, and turned to face her. “Once upon a time, long ago and far away, there was a kind and just man. Although he was from humble origins, through his hard work and noble bearing he came to own a castle, with hundreds of tenants. He was a kind and just leader-”

“You already said that!” Kilgrave ignored her interruption. 

“-and everyone loved him. Of course the story never says that even if he had been a terrible and cruel lord they would have loved him just the same. 

Anyway, one day he was walking through his garden, and came across a part that was full of violets. Just endless fields of shades of purple. And in the middle of them was the most beautiful woman he’d ever seen. They nattered on but the point was that he fell in love. He felt the undeniable pull one feels when they meet their soulmate, his every thought was consumed by her, he awoke in the middle of the night straining to feel her body, and all he wanted was to fulfill her every desire.” Jessica gulped audibly, and realized with a start she’d been leaning in while listening to his voice. 

“Then what?” She asked, having forced herself to sit back in her seat. Another drink sat in front of her, and she downed that as well. 

“Well, she loved him back, of course. Although it wouldn’t change the story if she didn’t, but let’s make it romantic and say she did. That she was just as consumed by him. They spent every moment in those purple fields and eventually conceived a child. The man’s heart thought it would burst from happiness. So, of course, the woman died in childbirth. In that very field of flowers. But,” Kilgrave took a long pause to take a pull from his drink. Jessica swallowed. “the child lived. A healthy boy with great bone structure and straw colored hair. Of course it was too late, and the father was consumed by grief. In his sorrow he locked the baby in the garden of purple flowers as he couldn’t bear to look at him. 

There the boy grew up, subsisting on the kindness of care packages from the tenants. He was even more beloved by the people, and everyone called him The Purple Fields Boy. Eventually he grew up and overtook his father’s house in feats of bravery and heroism, and become known as The Purple Fields Man, which was shortened to The Purple Man.” Jessica wondered if she could get away with making a joke about his namesake, but Kilgrave he turned his chair to face her fully and his tone changed. 

“Except The Purple Man was broken inside. He was not kind like his mother or his father during his youth, but cruel and uncaring. He made the tenants into serfs, and acted selfishly and without thought to another. Many parents sent their child to The Purple Man in the hope that one would be his soulmate, that one would turn his acts of cruelty to mercy and kindness, but he merely used them up, with only a few returning to their homes. In all his life he never met someone and felt a pull to them. And his reign of tyranny only ended with his death.”

Jessica sat stunned, overwhelmed by the story. 

“So what’s your actual name?” Jessica asked finally. He looked surprised that this was her response.

“Kilgrave.” 

“Duh, I meant your first name.” He was quiet so long she thought he wouldn’t answer. 

“Zebediah.” Jessica laughed without meaning to. 

“Really?” She asked. His chagrined face said it all. 

“I’m afraid so.” Jessica laughed again. 

“Well that does a better job explaining you than that story.” Kilgrave smiled at her, looking pleased she was pleased. Jessica couldn’t help thinking he looked kind with that smile. 

“Come work for me.” All feelings of good cheer left Jessica in one fell swoop.

“What?”

“I think we could work well together. I happen to be in the need of a new bodyguard. And I want us to spend more time together.” In one sentence Kilgrave had reminded her that just days ago she’d killed a man, saved another without any morals to speak of, and that she’d just been enjoying herself with someone who’d told one of their soulmates to stand in front of traffic. Jessica looked away, her eyes smarting. 

“That's not going to happen.” She told him fiercely. Kilgrave’s face morphed from hope to betrayal, settling on anger. 

“No?” He leaned in close, “did you end up telling the police about my involvement six nights back?” He seemed to think this was the thump card to their dispute. Jessica wanted to lie to him, to fight tooth and nail to prove she still had her freedom, but she was tired, and the alcohol had made her lips loose. So she pulled on his tie, surprising him. 

“Listen Kilgrave,” Jessica began, “You might have some limited control over what I do and say, but I won't be like the rest of your harem, content standing in the back of a bar while you do whatever you want with whomever you want. I won’t be a prop for you to move around and use for your convenience. I won’t go gently into that night.” 

Kilgrave stared at her searchingly. His gaze had softened somewhat, and he pulled her hand from his tie, holding it.

“I could make you.” 

Jessica tested the one card remaining to her. 

“You won't.” 

He glanced down at their clasped hands, seemingly fixated, before bringing his eyes back up to her face. 

“I won't.” He repeated.

And the world turned a bit on its axis.


	2. Chapter 2

Chapter 2 

It had been three weeks since Jessica first saw her soulmate, and she was in a marginally better mood. The nightmares were decreasing in frequency, her shifts at work were still horrible but the tips had been better, and Jessica began to feel like life could continue on as before. Maybe she’d even accept Trish’s frequent offer to buy her more film and get back into photography. 

That was until Jessica found a package slip wedged between the slots of her mailbox with a “Final Notice: Will Return to Sender On” with a date matching the one currently on her phone lock screen. 

And so, here Jessica was, fresh from the hell of the United States Post Office. 40 minutes spent, waiting in line just to pick up a package they should’ve had the decency to leave at her address. Instead Jessica had to walk ten blocks with a large, cumbersome box that kept digging into her right hip. To make matters more poetic, it had rained buckets the night before, leaving puddles everywhere. 

And her right boot had a hole in the heel. 

She was also on the phone with Trish, and that wasn't going great either. 

“God Trish,” Jess said, cell phone wedged between her shoulder and ear as she struggled to walk around a particularly large body of water masquerading as a puddle, “I don’t know, I’m pretty busy. Can we talk about this later?”

“Of course Jess,” Trish said, her words tempered with an annoyed twinge, “the only thing is that Simpson’s college roommate is only in town until tomorrow, and we think you guys might be a really good match.” Jessica hefted the package higher on her hip, hating that her life had led her to this moment. 

“Yeah, I don’t know.” Jessica supplied, wondering about the sanity of her best friend. 

“C’mon Jess, when’s the last time you had a meaningful connection with another person? Who isn’t me?” Distracted by side stepping an obnoxious tourist who wouldn’t fucking move Jessica told the truth. 

“Two weeks ago.” 

“What?!” Trish screamed, causing Jessica to instinctively jerk her head away from the phone. From there, three things happened in quick succession. 

First: No longer propped up by Jessica’s ear and shoulder, her phone fell into a huge puddle.

Second: Surprised by this, Jessica immediately stepped into the same puddle, her food missing her phone by scant inches. The hole in her boot led the temperature of the slushy mess to meet her sock near instantaneously and Jessica froze, feeling rage course through her blood. 

Third: Someone stole her package from her protesting hip and numb arms. 

“What the fuck.” Jessica told the universe as she reached down for her phone, looking around for the scumbag who had taken her package. She once again felt how freezing the puddle was as her hand reached in to catch her phone, and at the moment her hand caught the edge of it she dropped it. Because standing in front of her, holding her cumbersome package and smiling was Kilgrave himself. 

“What the fuck.” She repeated, forgetting entirely about her phone. She looked him up and down searchingly, trying to understand the mess of sensory images she was getting. For some reason, after two weeks of radio silence after their late night of drinking together Jessica was sure she’d never see him again. Which she was absolutely, perfectly, happy about.

“You look to be in some need of rescue.” Kilgrave said, nodding to her condition, “seems to be something of a habit for us.” 

“I’m fine.” Jessica snapped, horrifying anyone who recognized the man she was yelling at. Bending down to pick up her phone and stepping out of the puddle, her numb foot and ankle protested her assessment with the visual demonstration of buckling underneath her. Before she could curse the universe a third time in as many minutes Kilgrave caught her, dropping the package in his haste. 

Jessica meant to pull away from him, and possibly run away with her hands over her ears - appearances be damned - but he was so comfortably warm, and his body felt so right next to hers, and maybe possibly she missed him, that Jessica didn’t move away. 

Instead she looked up at him, and pulled on his lapels to right herself; it had the unintentional effect of pulling his face closer to hers. Kilgrave, surprised and intrigued, opened his mouth and she felt his breath on her lips. Jessica worried he was about to kiss her. She worried she wouldn’t stop him. 

“Where’s your harem?” Jessica asked, pushing herself away from his warm, far too comforting body. Jessica picked up her phone for the third time and put it in her pocket without looking at it. She shook her waterlogged foot; it made her wince and had no discernable effect. 

“You do love that word. They’re nearby in case of worry.” Kilgrave answered, picking up her package. Jessica found herself wondering if he wanted to answer that question or was forced to and covered it up by picking up her package. Idle thoughts anyone of this world found themselves thinking from time to time. 

“What’s in this?” 

“It was my lamp. It’s probably broken now.” Jessica answered. Kilgrave gently shook the box and the unmistakable sound of shards of glass clinking together was heard. He promptly dropped it, its usefulness gone. 

“Let me buy you a new one.” Jessica imagined owning something Kilgrave had given her, thinking of him every time she turned on and off the light in her tiny, crappy studio. Thinking of their interaction, the feel of his body against hers. 

“No.” Kilgrave’s gaze turned dark.

“You’ll let me procure a lamp for you.” He looked her over predatorily. “And proper footwear. And something to eat.” 

Jessica had been slowly shifting her weight on and off frozen foot, feeling it tingle, but at his tone she stopped mid shift.

“Are you..” Jessica stopped and looked away, “are you commanding me?” 

“I will if you don't say yes.” His tone held firm, contrasting with how vulnerable his face looked. Jessica didn’t notice either of these things, her mind distracted. 

“Your harem can’t come.” He smiled. 

“Suppose I won’t need them with you protecting me.” Jessica wasn’t amused. 

“I have to be at work by four.” 

“Then by four at work you shall be.” He held his hand out to her, and Jessica surprised herself by taking it. 

 

Their first stop was at a shoe store, “Can’t have you catching a cold with a wet foot!”. Within their first five minutes Kilgrave had ten patrons and three employees under his thrall. 

“How can you stand this?” Jessica had asked, watching everyone fawn over him with barely disguised disgust. Kilgrave was staring at her wet, threadbare, faded sock. 

“Hmm? Oh, it becomes background noise after awhile. I can command you not to become jealous if you’d like.” Jessica didn’t think about it, she simply picked up one of the wads of paper used to stuff the boots into shape and threw it at his head. All conversation stopped as everyone looked at her, waiting on pins and needles for the metaphorical shoe to drop. 

“Why did you do that?” Kilgrave asked, his tone even as his body language was rigid. 

“Don’t threaten my free will.” Jessica retorted. 

“Ah.” Kilgrave said, he relaxed his posture and conversation started up again. “You’re one of those.”

“One of what?” She asked, eyeing a pair of black boots that hadn’t been brought over. 

“An anti-mate.” Jessica whipped her head back to his. 

“Of course I’m not.” She retorted. While it wasn’t illegal to be an anti soulmate, it went over about as well as telling someone you preferred human flesh to animal. 

“Sure you are. No wonder by the state of you. You obviously cut your own hair, your wardrobe is outdated, you don’t seem concerned you can’t reach anyone by your waterlogged phone. It's been a long time since you’ve had any meaningful connection, and so you view any soulmate relationship as perilous instead of desirable.” In the same breath Kilgrave had been using to lecture her he waved an employee over and asked for the next round. 

“Listen,” Jessica began, wanting to tear him down and worried she was about to cry, “just because I don’t give a crap about my looks doesn’t mean I don’t have people who care about me.”

“Is anyone worried about where you are right now?” Kilgrave asked her. Jessica opened her mouth, “Besides the woman you were on the phone with.“ Jessica closed her mouth. She glared at him, and tried one more time. 

“I-” But whatever Jessica was about to say was lost as the employee brought over the boots she’d been eyeing along with a six pack of the most comfortable looking, warmest socks she’d seen. 

“Say thank you.” Kilgrave told her. 

“Thank you.” She told the employee. 

“That’s not what I meant.” He told her. Jessica didn’t listen, stripping off her old pair and putting on the new ones, barely restraining herself from moaning in pleasure. The boots quickly followed, and Jessica stood up to test them out. Kilgrave watched her hungrily, soaking up her happiness. 

“What do you think?” She asked, disregarding how domestic the questions sounded, even to her ears. She turned a bit in the full length mirror two employees had brought over for her, even though she complained she didn’t need it when she was only trying on shoes. Kilgrave couldn’t take his eyes off of her. 

“I hate them.” He told her finally. Jessica laughed.

 

“You’re kidding me.” Jessica said, refusing to step inside the store.

“What?” Kilgrave asked, holding the door open for her. An employee fluttered nearby, wanting to tell them not to let the cold in but some survival instinct not letting her confront Kilgrave directly. 

“Everything costs a boat load of money in here. I don’t need a lamp that’s more expensive than my rent.” Kilgrave looked puzzled. 

“How much is your rent?” 

“None of your business.” Kilgrave sighed impatiently. 

“Well, you can either come inside and pick a lamp with me, or we stand here together for the end of time because we’re not moving this spot unless it’s inside this store.” Jessica sighed. 

“Whatever, it’s your money.” She stepped inside, “It is your money, isn’t it?” Kilgrave smiled. 

“Best you don’t ask questions you don’t want the answer to.” He told her. 

“Great.” Jessica said. 

 

“How about this one?” Kilgrave asked after the fifteenth lamp that had caught his eye. Each one was met with a soliloquy on its strengths and weaknesses. Jessica started tuning him out when she realized she found it somewhat charming.

“It’s fine.” 

“That’s all you have to say about it?” He appeared baffled by her attitude. 

“It’s a lamp, it doesn’t matter.” Jessica said, her hands feathering through a particularly gaudy lamp’s hopefully fake diamonds. 

“Of course it matters. The things you surround yourself with are important.” Jessica turned around, staring at Kilgrave. 

“Just the things?” She asked, her voice dry. 

“What?” He asked, voice baffled. 

“Nothing.” She said, a voice in her head telling her to be smart for once and keep her mouth shut. The one she never listened to. She turned away from him, spotting a lamp that looked like a flamingo. 

“Tell me.” His voice was full of command, and for once, Jessica was happy to comply. She turned back to him, stepping so close she had to look up to catch his eyes. 

“You keep a group of soulmates with you at all times. You order them around, make them do your dirty work. You place them in corners until you want them again, treating them like things instead of people, discarding them if they annoy you. You think it’s your right to have these people’s love, but you’ve done nothing to deserve it. The worst thing that ever happened to your soulmates was meeting you.” Jessica found her voice twisted in emotion, near panting. Kilgrave took a step back, arms immediately crossing in front of him. 

“That’s what you think of me?” He asked, face defiant, voice hard yet unmistakably hurt. 

“Yes.” 

“And is that what you think of us?” Jessica clenched her teeth, refusing to answer; but his voice was still laced with command, and the next words were torn out of her mouth. “Not always.” 

It was faint praise, but felt damning. 

Kilgrave nodded, uncrossing his arms and stepping closer to her, his body leaning into hers, making her heart stutter. He reached out, the tips of his fingers almost at her cheek; Jessica closed her eyes and wished she were still panting from yelling at him. 

“Don’t.” She whispered. His fingers stilled. It felt abrupt. Unexpected. 

“Did you.. Did you mean to stop?” She asked, her heart lurching. When her question was met with silence Jessica opened her eyes. Kilgrave was gone. 

The store attendant asked her to leave less than a minute later. 

 

It had been three weeks and four days since Jessica last saw her soulmate, not that she was counting. 

She was lying on her couch, her feet propped up on the arm, eating a stale bag of chips as she flicked through channels with the TV at a decibel that her downstair neighbors were annoyed by but not angry enough to come up and yell at her. 

This was supposed to be her heaven, but Jessica wasn’t feeling the usual bliss. 

She wanted to blame the lamp that arrived three weeks and two days ago, but its yellow glow cast a comforting presence, which perhaps was the point. 

She was definitely going to break it. 

Tomorrow. 

A knock on her door distracted Jessica from the thought she’d had for the past seventeen days, and she stared at it for a moment, wondering who could be on the other side. Trish refused to come down here ever since someone flashed her. 

When the person knocked again, Jessica padded to the door, the TV still blaring. She opened the door, and there he stood. Replenished in a well fitted suit and coat, with his hands in his pockets. 

“Oh good, you received my gift.” Kilgrave said, peering into her apartment. Jessica followed his gaze, noting how it wasn’t focused on her lamp, but bounced from spot to spot, finally lingering on the tv and then her lackluster dinner. She felt somewhat embarrassed by the state of her apartment, and then angry she felt embarrassed. 

“Yeah thanks, I hate it.” Jessica said, unconsciously echoing Kilgrave’s earlier remark. “How’d you know where to deliver it?” His eyes returned to her. 

“I did some detective work.” 

“You did?” Her tone clear. 

“Just me.” And then Kilgrave amended, “although it took triple the time.” It was that addition that made Jessica smile, and Kilgrave smiled in return. He took a step closer, expecting to be let inside. Jessica knew that couldn’t happen. 

What are you doing here?” Kilgrave looked at her in surprise. 

“I came to apologize.” Now it was Jessica’s turn. 

“What?” 

“It was rude of me to leave you when we had a lunch engagement.” Jessica leaned against her door frame, her arms crossed, slightly dazed. She wondered if this was the first time he’d ever apologized. She wondered if she should tell him his poor behavior to her was meaningless in the grand scheme of things of horrific things he’d done. She felt ashamed of how pleased she was to have his apology.

“It’s far more rude to keep a group of captive people who lose their free will around you.” She finally said. For some reason, antagonizing him felt the safest response. 

Kilgrave took a hand out of his pocket, briefly used it to massage his brow, and then took a quick step to stand in front of her, using his arm to lean against the wall right above her head. His other hand remained in his pocket. 

Jessica wondered if it was second nature for him to use threatening body language to get his way. 

“Do you have to be impossible about everything?” He asked, as though they were discussing the weather. 

“Yes.” 

“So command me to turn them loose.” Jessica’s stomach dropped. “Tell me never to do it again. Tell me to treat every life as sacred, or whatever hallmark greeting you desire. Tell me you’ll stay by my side, and I won’t need anyone else.” Jessica felt faint, words deserted her, she wasn’t even sure if she was still breathing. He was sincere. 

“I…” But Jessica couldn’t complete a thought. She could only stare up at him. He gazed at her in return. His body language no longer felt threatening; instead it was focused, like she was his whole world. 

“Come have dinner with me.” His voice sounded hoarse. Jessica wanted to tell him no. 

“Ok.” 

 

They were sitting at a table, in a restaurant so extravagant Jessica didn’t even tally up how many meal’s she’d have to go without to afford this one. Their entrees were ordered, a bottle of wine opened and breathing, an appetizer between the two, and Jessica’s mind was blank. She couldn’t think of the last time she’d been on a date. 

“So,” Kilgrave said, laying his napkin back over his lap. “tell me about your life growing up.” 

Jessica remembered why it had been so long. 

“What?”

“It’s a typical first date discussion.” Kilgrave stated. Jessica wanted to ask him if he’d ever been on a date. 

“Why not my favorite color? Or where I see myself in five years?” 

“Your favored color is obviously black, as its all your wardrobe seems to be composed of. And I imagine you try hard not to think about the future.” Jessica stared at him, she wondered belatedly if she had any idea what she was doing. 

“What the hell.” Jessica said to herself, as if contemplating jumping from a high perch into a body of water with well displaced yet jagged rocks, “My parents, they were disgustingly in love, totally devoted to each other.” Jessica looked over at the wine, and Kilgrave poured it for her, something he’d never done before in his life. Jessica took a huge gulp of her drink, causing all the diners in the room to cringe; Kilgrave merely leaned in closer. “They met trying to grab the same umbrella, realized right away they were meant to be when my mom jokingly commanded my dad to give it to her. They ended up sharing it the rest of the day.”

“Sounds romantic” Kilgrave remarked. Jessica smiled at the table. She hated telling this story. 

“It was.”

“What happened then?” 

“What always happens? They got married, had the two kids in a big house with the white picket fence. Their life was pretty damn perfect. So was mine, although at the time I was an obnoxious kid; always grossed out by my parents and annoyed at my brother. My parents, they were so connected they had to be careful how they spoke around each other. Jokes often became literal.” Jessica trailed off, remembering a time when her Dad had joked her Mom’s spaghetti was so good they should have it every night of the week. It took four nights before they realized why her Mom kept making it. Kilgrave cleared his throat. 

“Was was I? Oh yeah, we were driving upstate for vacation when my Mom saw how tired my Dad was getting and joked that he should get some sleep. I can’t remember how she said it, but it must have sounded like a command because he did right then. 

We plowed into a truck and everyone died. Except me, I woke up from a month long coma, my life totally different. With this weird strength I had no idea what to do with.” Jessica wondered how she was talking about this when she was barely buzzed. 

“Trish’s mom took me in. I don’t know why, she hated me and Trish wasn’t much better. But then Trish and I became like comrades in arms, suffering through the same hell of her mom. After that, we did everything together. Went to college together, lived in the same dorm room, graduated, got awful just out of college corporate jobs, I even let her pick out my clothes sometimes. She was the only one who ever knew about my powers until you. I thought maybe, well, platonic soulmates are a thing, you know?” Kilgrave nodded. He had several hundreds of those. 

“But then she found her one, and they moved in together, got married and had the happily ever after. I couldn’t afford our apartment alone, and soon I was pushed out of my corporate job, “not the right fit”, so here I am working a job I hate to keep a crappy apartment.” Jessica wouldn’t look at Kilgrave, wondering why she had spilled everything to him, wondering if she should just leave. She drained her glass for something to do. 

“Look at me.” Jessica resisted until Kilgrave touched her hand, pulling it into his grasp. When she looked at him he wasn’t looking at her with pity, or embarrassment at her life, but pride.

“I won’t pretend to understand your pain. My parents loved science more than each other. When they had me, they were not affected. Not just that we didn’t have a soulmate bond, they found being a parent a nuisance. It was only when they saw how children responded to me in First Year, when they discovered what I was, that they felt any kind of affection for me. They ran horrifying experiments on me to see how powerful the soulmate bond was. Did you know electricity magnifies the effect? From their research some bond counselors use a diluted form of their technique.

After one particularly brutish experiment my bonds were amplified and my parents finally loved me. Of course by then it was too late, and I used that bond to escape them. I don’t know what it’s like to feel love and lose it, much less twice, but I can promise you that you will never feel that with me.” With effort, Jessica scoffed. Everything felt too real, too honest. She couldn’t pretend what they had was just a game Kilgrave wanted to play, she could feel his hand trembling with emotion. 

Jessica, I have had more soulmates than people have lifetimes, but I haven’t cared about any of them, save you.”

“Why me?” Jessica meant to sound adviserial, but she sounded weak to her own ears ‘Why do you love me?’ was about the worst question you could say to someone else. 

“Would you like me to list your qualities? Your innate desire to do the right thing even when it doesn’t benefit you? Your startling beauty that can’t be hidden by your horrid fashion sense? The way you burst into people’s lives and make yourself their focal point without trying? The very fact that when I look at you I feel peace?” Jessica covered his mouth with her fingers, how did it hurt and feel wonderful to hear something at the same time? 

“Are you telling me the truth?” Jessica asked, consciously imbuing her voice with a commanding tone. “Or is this some trick to get yourself a super strength bodyguard who can’t fight back?”

“I’m telling the truth.” Kilgrave said between her fingers. Jessica belatedly dropped her hand back to her lap. “And I can’t imagine you ever being in a position not to fight back.” 

Jessica felt torn asunder. 

“You want to make this work?” She asked. 

“More than anything.” His sincerity was undoing her. 

“I’m not easy to be around.” Kilgrave smiled, it was a teasing grin. 

“I’ve noticed that.” Jessica felt a smile come in response. 

“And I won’t let you get away with any of your shit.”

“I thought as much.” Jessica felt a wave of comfort overcome her; to be smiling at a man who was smiling at her, someone who had witnessed her worst secrets and wasn’t afraid, who wasn’t running away.

“I guess I can’t get rid of you that easily.” 

“‘Fraid not.” 

 

 

It had been ninety seven weeks since Jessica first saw her soulmate. She was lying in a King sized bed, with one foot sticking out of the covers and her head underneath the feather pillows. Her sleeping companion stared down at her, a smile on his face. 

 

In a perfect system, the function of soulmates would be a one-to-one ratio. Two people consumed by the other, passionately in love. In about 87.3 out of 100 cases this was true. However, the remaining 12.7 percent created such complicated situations many rejected this fundamental notion. 

 

Jessica turned over, arm moving until it reached a man’s waist. With the grace of sleeping consciousness she snuggled closer to him, her face just peeking out from underneath the pillow. Kilgrave was delighted. 

 

In these many situations the most tawdry come into focus, the triads, the scorned and unrequited lovers, the consummate cheater. Rarely is the .000001 percent, the soulmate of many, instead of the few. Those who can change the world for greatness or destruction. 

 

“Jessica.” Kilgrave whispered, fingers trailing up and down her bare back. 

“Hmm?” She asked, barely awake. 

“You know you’re very cuddly when you’re asleep?” 

“I am not.” Jessica admonished, belying her statement by moving closer. Kilgrave laughed. 

“I like it.” 

 

Of these few elite, only one had moved to the other side. 

END


End file.
